


Possible (18/39?)

by Mexta



Series: Possible [18]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, post-412
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:42:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2117211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mexta/pseuds/Mexta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian shows improvement</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possible (18/39?)

The changes took place so gradually Mickey didn’t even realize they were happening at first. After a while he became aware that Ian seemed to sleep a little less, talk a little more, eat more often, pay a bit of attention to what was going on around him. Occasionally he even took an interest in other people or joined a conversation voluntarily.

When Mickey first started to notice these things, his immediate instinct was to keep quiet about them — almost as if he thought they might all vanish away if he said something or scared Ian off again. He told himself not to get too excited or optimistic, not to think everything would get better just like that. But it was hard not to like having Ian back again, even in little doses or irregular moments. 

The day he came home and walked into the living room to find Ian holding Yevgeny against his shoulder and talking intently to Svetlana almost took Mickey’s breath away. He stood frozen in the doorway, listening to the two of them discuss the relative merits of baby cereal versus strained vegetables for almost five minutes before he could bring himself to move into the room. 

Ian looked up and actually smiled at him. “Little guy’s just about asleep,” he said, twisting his head around to try and check the baby’s eyes. “Looks like you’re just in time for his nap.”

Naps were the last thing Mickey worried about but he stepped forward to put one hand on the back of his son’s head and another around Ian’s shoulder. “You been walkin’ him?”

"Uh-huh." It was amazing how _normal_ Ian sounded. His voice was bright and playful, as though he had absorbed some of Yevgeny’s single-minded contentment just from proximity. “Give him a kiss before he conks out.”

Mickey could feel his eyebrows shoot up, and he was about to snort disbelievingly until he noticed, suddenly, one small chubby hand with tiny splayed fingers pressed against Ian’s shoulder blades right near the throat. The image filled his entire vision, mesmerizing him, until he became aware of Svetlana’s sardonic eyes on him. 

"I ain’t kissing anything," Mickey protested, pulling his gaze away.

"You’re not?" Ian pressed forward slightly, closing the distance between them, trapping Yevgeny’s warm body between his own shoulder and Mickey’s chest. His lips stayed half-parted, as though open with promise, and Mickey found it hard to stop staring at them. 

"Come on, daddy." Ian’s voice came out in a low, coaxing whisper. "One kiss for your baby … "

He tilted the small bundle between them, and before he knew what he was doing, Mickey felt himself bending down to peck Yevgeny’s soft, rounded forehead. As he leaned up again he felt Ian’s breath hot against his own cheek. “And one more for … “

The sentence trailed away as Mickey pressed his lips against Ian’s. Warm, pliant, inviting, so intoxicating to his touch. How long had it been since he’d done this? How much had he wanted it and not even realized he was wanting? He felt Ian’s hand on the back of his head and let his own snake up into Ian’s hair and for just a moment it was like old times, like he could forget everything that had happened except for the current between them. 

Then he realized that Ian’s hand and touch were lighter than his own, and feared suddenly that his need was too strong. He dropped his arm and pulled away, pressing his teeth into his bottom lip and looking almost guiltily into Ian’s eyes, half-expecting some sign of resistance or rejection.

But Ian smiled at him, showing only a kind of tranquility. “… one more for your man,” he finished quietly. 

And while it was true that what Mickey really wanted to do was drag Ian into the bedroom and throw him onto the bed, the contented smile and sleeping baby in Ian’s muscular arms made it easy to simply smile back. 

Ian leaned over to lay Yevgeny gently into his bassinet, and wrapped him expertly in a blanket. “Should be down for a couple of hours at least,” he said over his shoulder to Svetlana.

"Thank you," she said, exhaling slowly. "You make good father." 

"I’m not a father," Ian said lightly, "Just an older brother."

Svetlana nodded slightly. “I go use time to study,” she said after a moment, and went off to her bedroom, leaving Mickey and Ian, and the sleeping baby, alone in the living room.

***

In the silence that followed, Ian bent over the bassinet again, adjusting the blanket and moving some toys out of the way. After a moment it occurred to Mickey that he was doing it to avoid looking up.

Strange how even now, when they slept in the same bed together every night, there could be so much uncertainty between them.

"Are you?" Mickey asked abruptly.

Ian straightened and turned toward Mickey, his face still and serious again. ”Am I what?”

"My man." 

For a second they stared at each other, and then Mickey glanced down to shake a cigarette out of his pack. “You said you’re my man,” he mumbled, feeling like an idiot.

But Ian was smiling again when he looked back up. “Course I am. Who else’s would I be?”

Mickey flicked his lighter, which somehow required concentration. His hands didn’t seem too steady. When Ian moved toward him, he held out the cigarette.

Ian shook his head, and put a hand on Mickey’s forearm. “Thank you, Mickey.”

"For what?"

"For looking after me all this time."

Mickey almost dropped the lighter. “The fuck’s gotten into you?”

"Nothing." Ian seemed to laugh, then stopped, his eyes fixed intently on Mickey’s. "I just … I know this hasn’t been much fun for you."

"Ain’t been a barrel of laughs for you either."

"No, but … I guess it could’ve been a lot worse if I didn’t have you."

Mickey shrugged and said roughly, “”S nothing.”

"It’s not nothing." Ian’s hand was still on his arm, squeezing lightly. "And I haven’t been much company."

"Better now than you were before."

"I’m sorry I … haven’t wanted to do anything in bed."

“‘S okay.”

Ian started to move his hand away and Mickey reached up abruptly to grab it. For a fleeting moment they stood with Ian’s hand in his, and Mickey felt a sudden light-headedness. He found himself smiling at Ian. “Just lemme know if you ever do.”

Then Ian laughed, and Mickey grinned and went into the kitchen to grab beers for both of them, and they put on a movie and sprawled beside each other on the couch to watch it.


End file.
